French teen idol and pop icon Françoise Hardy returned to record shelves in 2006 with Parenthèses, a collection of 12 duets. Longtime collaborators like Henri Salvador and husband Jacques Dutronc join some up-and-comers to offer up a slew of some of Hardy's favorites. Among the selections, the intimate and lilting duet with Dutronc, the eerie "My Beautiful Demon" with Ben Christophers and "Le Fou de la Reine" (with the perpetually smooth Henri Salvador) are highlights. Keeping production tricks and mixing slick-ery to a tasteful minimum, Hardy manages to capture quite a bit of the magic that made earlier efforts (like 1971's Question) so uncluttered and engaging. Even Julio Iglesias seems to get into the groove, turning in a fine rendition of Dutronc's aching "Partir Quand Même..." that's neither flashy nor overtly sexy -- just comfortable -- and that's a good overall description of the album as well. ~ J. Scott McClintock, All Music Guide
Sung (except for one track) in English, this 1972 album (originally titled just Françoise Hardy) was reissued on CD by Virgin France in 2000 under the title If You Listen, and issued in some foreign territories under yet different titles in the 1970s. However it was titled, it was a good, tasteful, and subdued set of folk-rock- and singer/songwriter-influenced covers (though the one French song, "Brulure," was the sole original Hardy composition). It's no surprise that the mood here is dignified rainy-day sorrow. But that was Hardy's forte, and the arrangements, emphasizing acoustic guitar and light strings, seem to indicate she was doing some listening to British folk-rock and American singer/songwriters. So does the choice of covers, including songs by Buffy Sainte-Marie, Neil Young ("Till the Morning Comes"), Beverley Martyn, and Randy Newman ("I Think It's Gonna Rain Today"). There's also the quite obscure "The Garden of Jane Delawnay," a misspelled interpretation of "The Garden of Jane Delawney" by the British folk-rock band the Trees; "Let My Name Be Sorrow," originally done by Mary Hopkin; and a couple of tunes co-written by Mick Jones, later of Foreigner. None of songs rate among her best work, but it's still a good album, often overlooked even by Hardy fans and notable in that just one of the English songs ("Bown Bown Bown") was also recorded by Hardy in a French version. It's also much superior to her album of English cover versions of just three years before, Françoise Hardy en Anglais, which was over-produced and far heavier on the syrup. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
From the Bardot-like cover shot of a windswept and gorgeous Françoise Hardy to the oddly chipper title, this 1965 U.S. debut (originally released on the proto-world music label Four Corners) is clearly pitched at the adventurous edge of the U.S. pop market, pitching Hardy as the Gallic Petula Clark. (Clark was, unbeknownst to the U.S. market at the time, making terrific French-language pop records herself at the time.) Complicating this, of course, is the fact that Hardy's music, for all its catchiness, is stripped down to its barest essentials -- acoustic and electric guitar, bass, minimalist drums, very little else -- and Hardy herself sings her (mostly self-penned) lyrics in an attractive but chilly drop-dead monotone that's far removed from the perkiness of almost every other female singer (minus Nico and Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las) of the '60s. Even the perkier tunes, like the enormous French hit single "Tous les Garcons et les Filles," have a measured, restrained quality. The Yeh-Yeh Girl From Paris is an outstanding record, but it's the '60s pop equivalent of Shaker furniture: free of ornamentation and exquisitely simple. ~ Stewart Mason, All Music Guide
Francoise Hardy is mostly known as a pop chanteuse with mild rock influences. It comes as something of a shock, then, to stick this into the CD player and hear her backed by assertive, guitar-oriented modern rock arrangements. Hardy's delivery hasn't changed much; it's still a mixture of fetching sensuality and composed reserve. What has changed is the music, with its emphasis upon gutsy guitar textures that sound influenced by '90s alternative rock--a bit of grungetone here, some Brit-pop energy there, some rootsy slide work (on "Ici Ou La?") in the mold of Ry Cooder. Many middle-aged pop singers move from gritty rock to lighthearted MOR. Hardy, unusually, seems determined to move in exactly the opposite direction. It's not as good as, or very similar to, the charming sentimental pop of her youth. Yet it's not at all embarrassing, with a couple of tunes ("Dix Heures En Ete" and "Contre-Jour") that would have definite hit potential, in the best sense of the word, were they sung in English. Whatever you think, one would be hard-pressed to name other rock singers in their early fifties, from France or anywhere else, that managed to sound unassumingly contemporary in the mid-'90s. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
One of her weaker efforts, frequently characterized by a happy-go-lucky, pedestrian country-blues flavor. It's nice to know that she was keeping her ears open to outside influences. Yet we Yankees who love Francoise listen to her, at least in part, because of her oh-so-very French qualities. If you want to hear lame L.A.-style early '70s mellow rock, there are plenty of alternatives to turn to before you head for the import bins. It would be nice to lay the blame with some wrongheaded producer, but actually Hardy wrote almost all of the material herself. Yet it's not entirely dismissable. The most pop-oriented productions--"Carfard," the title track, and the gorgeous "Bowm Bowm Bowm"--are delicately tuneful and sensitively performed, even if they're incongruous with the rest of the album. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
This may not rate as highly as her best mid-'60s recordings, which are less MOR-oriented. That stated, it's about as good as late-'60s MOR Continental pop gets, with tastefully imaginative orchestration, strong melodies, and sexy vocals. It's perhaps even sadder and more sentimental than was the norm for Francoise--she perpetually seems to be singing as though she's gazing out of a deserted chateau on a rainy afternoon. She largely forsakes original material here (although a couple cuts bear her writing credit), and offers fine, haunting French interpretations of Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne," and Phil Ochs' "There But for Fortune," and Ricky Nelson's "Lonesome Town." ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
Throughout her career, most of Françoise Hardy's arrangements have tended toward the lush, though in a good way. La Question is lush too, but it's one of her most sparsely produced efforts, usually finding her voice accompanied by little more than an acoustic guitar, touches of bass, and very subtle orchestration. Much of the record's lights-low ambience could be attributed to Tuca (no last name given), who played guitar, co-arranged, and co-wrote most of the tunes (though Hardy did contribute to the composition of a few tracks). It may be her best post-'60s effort, songs like "Chanson d'O" and "Le Martien" featuring some of her most whispery, seductive vocals. As fireside romantic music goes, it beats the hell out of José Feliciano. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide